How Did That Happen?

Neurosurgeons aren’t known for their warm bedside manner.

In the weeks after my injury, I was desperate for a definitive prognosis. Nurses and therapists offered a lot of “keep trying, anything’s possible.” I just wanted someone to tell me the outcome.

I liked my doc. Gruff, matter-of fact, cared a lot but didn’t spend time on warm-and-fuzzy. Finally, after much cajoling, he told me straight-up what he knew from the data.

“Rich, with your injury you’ll probably make it to 40. You’re not likely to live much past 50.”

I was 36 years old. I thought about his prognostication yesterday as I completed my 70^th trip around the sun. (As an aside, I can remember when I thought 70-year-old people were really, really, old!)

Not sure what to make of significantly outliving the data. Medical care’s improved quite a bit in 34 years. Averages are only averages.

Clearly, for whatever reason, God doesn’t think I’m done. If I’m honest I’ll tell you He and I have had many conversations in which I’ve asked Him if it wasn’t time to bring down the curtain. Living with a spinal cord injury is hard, and it’s not getting easier as the years accumulate.

But God – and that’s always the answer – but God has something else in mind. I almost never see it while it’s happening, but when I look back I can see Him at work.

I’ll talk more about that next time. For now I’m reflecting on what it means to be 70 years old when I wasn’t supposed to make it past 50.

70 doesn’t seem so old any more. How did that happen?